


I Open At The Close

by Dreamwind



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Napoleonic Wars, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Animal Transformation, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M, M/M, Magical Violence, Multi, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-03-20 12:57:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3651180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamwind/pseuds/Dreamwind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The final battle goes a little differently and Harry finds himself with new options on moving forward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: The Beginning At The End

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Books, Bloomsbury Books, and Warner Brothers. The Temeraire series and characters are owned by Naomi Novik, Del Ray Books. This is a work of fiction not authorized, or in conjunction with, the official books and movies. I make no money from this work of fiction.

**1997; The Forbidden Forest, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland**

 

A swarm of demeanors was gliding amongst the trees; he could feel their chill, and he was not sure he would be able to pass safely through. He had no strength left for a Patronus. He could no longer control his trembling. It was not, after all, so easy to die. Every second he breathed, the smell of grass, the cool air on his face, was so precious: To think that people had years and years, time to waste, so much time it dragged, and he was clinging to each second. At the same time he thought that he would not be able to go on, and knew that he must. The long game was ended, the Snitch had been caught, it was time to leave the air…

The Snitch. His nerveless fingers fumbled for a moment with the pouch at his neck and he pulled it out.

_I open at the close._

Breathing fast and hard, he stared down at it. Now that he wanted time to move as slowly as possible, it seemed to have sped up, and understanding was coming so fast it seemed to have bypassed thought. This was the close. This was the moment.

He pressed the golden metal to his lips and whispered, “I am about to die.”

The metal shell broke open. He lowered his shaking hand, raised Draco’s wand beneath the Cloak, and murmured, _“Lumos.”_

The black stone with it jagged crack running down the center sat in the two halves of the Snitch. The Resurrection Stone had cracked down the vertical line representing the Elder Wand. The triangle and circle representing the Cloak and the stone were still discernible.

And again Harry understood without having to think. It did not matter about bringing them back, for he was about to join them. He was not really fetching them: They were fetching him.

He closed his eyes and turned the stone over in his hand three times.

He knew it had happened, because he heard slight movements around him that suggested frail bodies shifting their footing on the earthy, twig-strewn ground that marked the outer edge of the forest. He opened his eyes and looked around.

They were neither ghost nor truly flesh, he could see that. They resembled most closely the Riddle that had escaped from the diary so long ago, and he had been memory made nearly solid. Less substantial than living bodies, but much more than ghosts, they moved toward him, and on each face, there was the same loving smile.

James was exactly the same height as Harry. He was wearing the clothes in which he had died, and his hair was untidy and ruffled, and his glasses were a little lopsided, like Mr. Weasley’s.

Sirius was tall and handsome, and younger by far than Harry had seen him in life. He loped with easy grace, his hands in his pockets and a grin on his face.

Lupin was younger too, and much less shabby, and his hair was thicker and darker. He looked happy to be back in this familiar place, scene of so many adolescent wanderings.

Lily’s smile was widest of all. She pushed her long hair back as she drew close to him, and her green eyes, so like his, searched his face hungrily, as though she would never be able to look at him enough.

“You’ve been so brave.”

He could not speak. His eyes feasted on her, and he thought that he would like to stand and look at her forever, and that would be enough.

“You are nearly there,” said James. “Very close. We are…so proud of you.”

“Does it hurt?”

The childish question had fallen from Harry’s lips before he could stop it.

“Dying? Not at all,” said Sirius. “Quicker and easier than falling asleep.”

“And he will want it to be quick. He wants it over,” said Lupin.

“I didn’t want you to die,” Harry said. These words came without his violation. “Any of you. I’m sorry-“

“I am sorry too,” said Lupin. “Sorry I will never know him…but he will know why I died and I hope he will understand. I was trying to make a world in which he could live a happier life.”

A chilly breeze that seemed to emanate from the heart of the forest lifted the hair at Harry’s brow. He knew that they would not tell him to go, that it would have to be his decision.

“You’ll stay with me?”

“Until the very end,” said James.

“They won’t be able to see you,” asked Harry.

“We are part of you,” said Sirius. “Invisible to anyone else.”

Harry looked at his mother.

“Stay close to me,” he said quietly.

And he set off. The dementor’s chill did not overcome him; he passed through it with his companions, and they acted like Patronuses to him, and together they marched through the old trees that grew close together, their branches tangled, their roots gnarled and twisted underfoot. Harry clutched the Cloak tightly around him in the darkness, traveling deeper and deeper into the forest, with no idea where exactly Voldemort was, but sure that he would find him. Beside him, making scarcely a sound, walked James, Sirius, Lupin, and Lily, and their presence was his courage, and the reason he was able to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

His body and mind felt oddly disconnected now, his limbs working without conscious instruction, as if he were passenger, not driver, in the body he was about to leave. The dead who walked beside him through the forest were much more real to him now than the living back at the castle: Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and all the others were the ones who felt like ghosts as he stumbled and slipped towards the end of his life, toward Voldemort….

A thud and a whisper: Some other living creature had stirred close by. Harry stopped under the Cloak, peering around, listening, and his mother and father, Lupin and Sirius stopped too.

“Someone there,” came a rough whisper close at hand. “He’s got an Invisibility Cloak. Could it be-?”

Two figures emerged from behind a nearby tree: Their wands flared, and Harry saw Yaxley and Dolohov peering into the darkness, directly at the place Harry, his mother and father and Sirius and Lupin stood. Apparently they could not see anything.

“Definitely heard something,” said Yaxley. “Animal, d’you reckon?”

“That head case Hagrid kept a whole bunch of stuff in here,” said Dolohov, glancing over his shoulder when further behind Harry the trees creaked and groaned, leaves rustling and twigs crunching under the weight of a moving body. Soon enough the sounds stopped, fading off into the forest, further from where they all stood waiting.

Yaxley looked down at his watch.

“Time’s nearly up. Potter’s had his hour. He’s not coming.”

“And he was sure he’d come! He won’t be happy.”

“Bette go back,” said Yaxley. “Find out what the plan his now.”

He and Dolohov turned and walked deeper into the forest, Dolohov pausing only once to look in the direction the sounds had faded off into. Harry followed them, wondering only vaguely about the sounds, knowing that the two Death Eaters would lead him exactly where he anted to go. He glanced sideways, and his mother smiled at him, and his father nodded encouragement.

They had traveled on mere minutes when Harry saw light ahead, and Yaxley and Dolohov stepped out into a clearing that Harry knew had been the place where the monstrous Aragog had once lived. The remnants of his vast web were still there, thinned so greatly that they weaved like ghosts on the wind, revealing great swaths of trees and tall stones, but the swarm of descendants he had spawned had been driven out by the Death Eaters, to fight for their cause.

A fire burned in the middle of the clearing, and it’s flickering light fell over a crowd of completely silent, watchful Death Eaters. Some of them were still masked and hooded; others showed their faces. Two giants sat on the outskirts of the group, the hulking forms barely reaching above the massive stones still trapped with the tattered remnants of Aragog’s web. They cast massive shadows over the scene, their faces cruel, rough-hewn like the rock pillars beside them. Harry saw Fenrir, skulking, chewing his long nails; the great blond Rowle was dabbing as his bleeding lip. Lucius Malfoy, who looked defeated and terrified, and Narcissa, whose eyes were sunken and full of apprehension.

Every eye was fixed upon Voldemort, who stood with his head bowed, and his white hands folded over the Elder Wand in front of him. He might have been praying, or else counting silently in his mind, and Harry, standing still on the edge of the scene, thought absurdly of a child counting in a game of hide-and-seek. Behind his head, still swirling and coiling, the great snake Nagini floated in her glittering, charmed cage, like a monstrous halo.

When Dlohov and Yaxley rejoined the circle, Voldemort looked up.

“No sign of him, my Lord,” said Dolohov.

Voldemort’s expression did not change. The red eyes seemed to burn in the firelight. Slowly he drew the Elder Wand between long fingers.

“My Lord-“

Bellatrix had spoken: She sat closest to Voldemort, disheveled, her face a little bloody but otherwise unharmed.

Voldemort raised his hand to silence her, and she did not speak another word, but eyed him in worshipful fascination.

“I thought he would come,” said Voldemort in his high, clear voice, his eyes on the leaping flames. “I expected him to come.”

Nobody spoke. They seemed as scared as Harry, whose heart was now throwing itself against his ribs as though determined to escape the body he was about to cast aside. His hands were sweating as he pulled off the Invisibility Cloak and stuffed it beneath his robes, with his wand. He did not want to be tempted to fight.

“I was, it seems…mistaken,” said Voldemort.

The forest rustled behind him as if to push Harry forward to face the man who had been named his death before he had even had life, at the edges he could hear the forest whispering to him, footsteps in the dark rushing closer. His vision tunneled in, everything feeling vaguely more dream-like than before. It would be easier than falling asleep.

“You weren’t.”

Harry said it as loudly as he could, with all the force he could muster: He did not want to sound afraid. The Resurrection Stone slipped from between numb fingers, he saw not where it landed, and out of the corner of his eyes he saw his parents, Sirius, and Lupin vanish as he stepped forward into the firelight. At that moment he felt that nobody mattered but Voldemort. It was just the two of them.

The Illusion was gone as soon as it had come. The giants roared as the Death Eaters rose together, and there were many cries, gasps, even laughter. Voldemort had frozen where he stood, but his red eyes had found Harry, and he stared as Harry moved towards him, with nothing but the fire between them.

Then a voice yelled: “HARRY! NO!”

He turned: Hagird was bound and trussed, tied to one of the stones nearby. His massive body shook the stone and the nearby tree branches overhead as he struggled, desperate.

“NO! NO! HARRY, WHAT’RE YEH-?”

“QUIET,” shouted Rowle, and with a flick of his wand Hagrid was silenced.

Bellatrix, who had leapt to her feet, was looking eagerly from Voldemort to Harry, her breast heaving. The only things that move were the flames and the snake, coiling and uncoiling in the glittering cage behind Voldemort’s head.

Harry could feel his wand against his chest, but he made no attempt to draw it. He knew that the snake was too well protected, knew that if he managed to point the wand at Nagini, fifty curses would hit him first. And still, Voldemort and Harry looked at each other, and now Voldemort tilted his head a little to the side, considering the boy standing before him, and a singularly mirthless smile curved the lipless mouth.

“Harry Potter,” he said very softly. His voice might have been part of the spitting fire. “The Boy Who Lived.”

None of the Death Eaters moved. They were waiting: Everything was waiting. Hagrid was struggling, and Bellatrix was panting, and Harry thought inexplicably of Ginny, and how he wished he had told her the truth when they parted ways, wished that someone had know the truth of him-

Voldemort had raised his wand. His head was still tilted to one side, like a curious child, wondering what would happen if he proceeded. Harry looked back into the red eyes, and wanted it to happen now, quickly, while he could still stand, before he lost control, before he betrayed fear-

His eyes widened momentarily as the black shadow behind Voldemort moved, a strangely glowing green liquid arching through the air to land over Nagini’s golden cage, melting through the bars to ooze down over the snake’s coiling body, bursting into violent blue flames that shrieked in the night, lighting the snake up like a firework until there was nothing but a coil of black ash were she had once been. Voldemort roared, spinning to face the dark shape, one hand clenched in his robes over his heart, the other raised still, but trembling as the figure lurched out of the darkness, his normal grace lost along with all the blood that stained the front of his normally pristine robes.

“YOU! YOU SHOULD BE DEAD,” Voldemort yelled.

The world rushed back in on Harry in a wave of sound, frightened, angry yelling, the roaring of the giants thrumming up through his feet like the tremors of an earthquake. Everything seemed to suddenly be moving too fast for him to track as he watched Snape still into the clearing, over the smoldering corpse of Nagini. Snape’s dark eyes met his briefly before flicking back to Voldemort, a sneer spreading over his features, the too pale color of his skin glowing eerily in the firelight, his throat stained red from his blood which had poured from Nagini’s bite, and his his dark clothes were doing their best to blend into the deep shadows of the ancient trees and stones that encircled them.

“I have a promise to keep.”

Voldemort snarled, a fiery whip snapping out from his wand, ensnaring the potions master and tossing him through the air to crash to the ground at Harry’s feet, trapping him between Voldemort, the Death Eaters, the giants, the fire, and the circle of stones. Snape winced slightly as he pushed himself to his knees, Harry reached out, placing his hands on Snape’s arm to help him up to his feet. Together they stood facing Voldemort, Snape standing just in front of Harry as he had so long ago on a night flood with the light of a full moon.

He saw that lipless mouth move and a flash of green light, raising one arm in front of his face Harry waited for the world to drop away, as easier than falling asleep like Sirius had said.

“My Lord… _my Lord_ …”

It was Bellatrix’s voice, and she spoke as if to a lover. Harry stalled thickly, not wanting to open his eyes, but needing to know. He could feel his wand beneath his robes, burning against his chest as if to force him to take it in hand.

“My Lord,” cooed Bellatrix.

“That will do,” said Voldemort in a commanding tone.

Harry force his eyes open, wondering why he wasn’t dead yet, but slowly feeling a growing horror in his chest deepen as what he didn’t want to think had happened, proved true. At his feet lay the crumpled body of Severus Snape.

Harry dropped to his knees, his vision blurring from rising tears. He didn’t want anymore people to die because of him, he didn't want this. He didn't want to feel this guilt anymore, he didn’t want to see anymore soulless eyes staring back at him.

Fist clenching on Snape’s robes, Harry snatched his wand from where it was pressed against his chest, aiming it at Voldemort, who watched him with a pleased expression on his inhuman face, Bellatrix laughing wildly at his side.

“Poor little Potter-wotter, did you lose another? Boo hoo hoo,” she cackled madly.

“Bellatrix,” snapped Voldemort, pushing her back into the circle of watching Death Eaters. “It is just you and I now, Potter. Give up this fight. You’ve already lost.”

A cold fire burned at the back of his throat, as kneeled there, wand arm raised and trembling, Snape’s head resting in his lap. As if in slow motion, Harry met Voldemort’s murderous red eyes one last time.

“You won’t be killing anyone else tonight,” said Harry in a strangely calm voice. “You won’t be able to kill any of them ever again. Don’t you get it? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting the people in that castle-“

“But you did not!”

“- I meant to, and that’s what counts. I’ll defeat you because I have to, because there is no other option but to defeat you. I won’t let their deaths be in vain.”

“Love again,” Voldemort sneered. “Dumbledore’s favorite solution, love, which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him falling from the tower and breaking like an old waxwork? Love, which did not prevent me stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter - and no one seems to love you enough to stop you from coming to me. Snape, the traitor, is dead. Your only hope lost. So what will stop you dying now when I strike? Your Gryffindor bravery? Hardly.”

“Just one thing,” said Harry, his hand still resting on the shoulder of the man who had fallen to the dark because of his father and returned to the light for his mother, who had spent ten years back into the shadows because of his own guilt, and who had willingly stepped between Harry and Voldemort even knowing it was Harry’s duty to die here to save them all.

“If it is not love that will save you this time,” said Voldemort as he stepped closer. “You must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine?”

“I believe both,” said Harry, feeling the warmth of the Cloak under his robe, the cold burn of the stone near his feet, and the electric pulse of the wand pointing towards him in Voldemort’s own hand. Shock flashed across the snake-like face, though it was instantly dispelled; Voldemort began to laugh, and the sound was more frightening than his screams; humorless and insane, it echoed around the silent grove.

“You think you know more magic than I do,” he said. “Than I, than Lord Voldemort, who has performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?”

“Oh, he dreamed of it,” said Harry, watching lines of glowing teal come to life on the stones, “but he knew more than you, knew enough not to do what you’ve done.”

“You mean he was weak,” screamed Voldemort. “Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been his, what will be mine!”

“No, he was cleverer than you,” said Harry, the lines in the stone glowing brighter, forming runes where they met, “a better wizard, a better man.”

“I brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore!”

“You thought you did,” said Harry, “but you were wrong.”

For the first time, the watching crowd stirred an drew breath as one, waiting to see the inevitable climax.

 _“Dumbledore is dead!”_ Voldemort hurled the words at Harry as though they would cause him unendurable pain. “His body decays in the marble tomb in the grounds of this castle, I have seen it, Potter, and he will not return!”

“Yes, Dumbledore is dead,” said Harry calmly, “but you didn’t have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant.”

“What childish dream is this,” Voldemort snarled, but still he did not strike, and his red eyes did not wavier from Harry’s.

“Severus Snape wasn’t your,” said Harry, “Snape was Dumbledore’s, Dumbledore’s from the moment you started hunting down my mother. And you never realized it, because of the thing you can’t understand. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle?”

Voldemort did not answer, just glanced quickly down at the pale body clutched in Potter’s arms.

“Snape’s Patronus was a doe,” said Harry, “the same as my mother’s, because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from the moment they met as children. You should have realized,” he said as he saw Voldemort’s nostrils flare, “he asked you to spare her life, didn’t he?”

“He desired her, that was all,” sneered Voldemort, unwilling even after watching Snape kill Nagini and defend Potter, to believe that his most trusted follower was a traitor, “but when she had gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of purer blood, worthier of him-“

“Of course he told you that,” said Harry, pride and courage welling up inside, “but he was Dumbledore’s spy from the moment you threatened her, and he’s been working against you ever since! Dumbledore was already dying when Snape killed him!”

“It matters not,” shrieked Voldemort, who had followed every word with rapt attention, but now let out a cake of mad laughter. “It matters not whether Snape was mine or Dumbledore’s, or what petty obstacles they tried to put in my path! I crushed them as I crushed your mother, Snape’s supposed great love! Oh, but it all makes sense, Potter, and in ways that you do not understand!”

Voldemort paced in front of him, his manic grin growing ever wider, his red eyes locked solely on Harry, ignoring everyone and everything around him. His Death Eaters doing much the same, not willing to miss seeing Harry Potter finally defeated, and a new reign, a pureblood reign, being born.

“Dumbledore was trying to keep the Elder Wand from me! He intended that Snape should have be the true master of the wand! But I got there ahead of you, little boy - I reached the wand before you could get your hands on it, I understood the truth before you caught up. I killed him Severus Snape three hours ago, and killed him again just now, and the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny is truly mine! Dumbledore’s plan went wrong, Harry Potter!”

“Yeah, it did,” said Harry. “You’re right. But before you try to kill me, I’d advise you to think about what you’ve done…Think, and try for remorse because Dumbledore’s last plan hasn’t backfired for me yet. But it’s backfired for you, Riddle.”

“You dare!” Voldemort’s hand was trembling on the Elder Wand, and Harry gripped Draco’s wand tightly, steadily. The moment was seconds away. All he had to do was cast his spell just after Voldemort cast his, Harry would die, and Voldemort would follow him.

“Aren’t you listening? _Snape never beat Dumbledore!_ Dumbledore’s death was planned between them! Dumbledore intended to die undefeated, the wand’s last true master! If all had gone as planned, the wand’s power would have died with him, because it had never been won from him!”

“But then, Potter, Dumbledore as good as gave me the wand!” Voldemort's voice shook with malicious pleasure. “I stole the wand from it’s last master’s tomb! I removed it against it’s last masters wishes! It’s power is mine!”

“You still don’t get get, Riddle, do you,” said Harry. He shook his head, feeling a little sad that the older wizard just didn’t get it. Harry understood it all too well now, and he could feel the triangle of power formed by the three Hallows echoing through him, he could feel the power building and dancing between the stones around them, and even the nervous flux of the power in the watching Death Eaters. “Possessing the wand isn’t enough! Holding it, using it, doesn’t make it really yours. Didn’t you listen to Olivander? The wand chooses the wizard…. The Elder Wand recognized a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who never even laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realizing exactly what he had done, or that the world’s most dangerous wand had given him it’s allegiance…”

Voldemort’s chest rose and fell rapidly, and Harry could feel the curse coming, feel it building inside the wand pointed at his face.

“The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy.”

Blank shock showed in Voldemort’s face for a moment, but then it was gone. A rising whisper of noise echoed around the clearing at the declaration.

“But what does it matter,” he said softly. “Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand: We duel on skill alone…and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy…”

Harry heard Narcissa cry out, and caught sight of Lucius Malfoy stumbling towards his wife, gripping her shoulders and pulling her out of the circle while the Dark Lord was distracted, their worry for Draco plain on their faces.

“But you’re too late,” said Harry. “You’ve missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took his wand from him.”

Harry twitched the hawthorn wand, and felt the eyes of everyone on him. “So it all comes down to this, doesn’t it,” whispered Harry. “Does the wand in your hand know it’s last master was Disarmed? Because if it does…Then I am the true master of the Elder Wand.”

A bright teal glow burst suddenly across the dark cover of the forest canopy. The light hit both of their faces at the same time, so that Voldemort’s was suddenly a blur of blue flames. Harry heard the high voice shriek as he too yelled his best hope to the heavens, pointing Draco’s wand as he clutched tightly to Snape’s corpse with the other:

 _“Avada Kedavra,”_ cried Voldemort just a few seconds before Harry.

_“Sectumsempra!“_

Harry smiled as he saw the flash of green light, and then fell backwards besides Snape, his once vibrant green eyes blank and dull, a small smile on his face. Voldemort had only a second to revel in his enemies defeat before Harry’s final spell, the one Snape had made “for enemies,” slammed into his chest. Voldemort fell backwards, arms splayed, the slit pupils of his scarlet eyes rolling upwards, as a arch of bright red blood erupted from his chest. Tom Riddle hit the floor with mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken, the white hands empty, the snake-like face vacant and unknowing.

 

*~*~*~*

 

He lay face down, listening to the silence. He was perfectly alone. Nobody was watching, nobody was there. He was not entirely sure that he was there himself in fact.

A long time later, or maybe no time at all, it came to him that he must exist, must be more than a disembodied thought, because he was lying on some surface. Therefore he had a sense of touch, and the thing against which he lay existed too.

Almost as soon as he had reached this conclusion, Harry became conscious that he was naked. Convinced as he was of his total solitude, this did not concern him, but it did intrigue him slightly. He wondered weather, as he could feel, he would be able to see. In opening them, he discovered he had eyes.

He lay in bright mist, though it was not like mist he had ever experienced before. His surroundings were not hidden by cloudy vapor; rather the cloudy vapor had not yet formed into surroundings. The floor on which he lay seemed to be white, neither warm nor cold, but simply there, a flat, blank something on which to be.

He sat up. His body appeared unscathed. He touched his face, surprised not to feel the weight of his glasses pressing down on his sinuses. He was not wearing glasses anymore.

As he was marveling over this, a noise reached him through the unformed nothingness that surrounded him: the small soft thumping of something that flapped flailed, and struggled. It was a pitiful noise, yet also slightly indecent. He had the uncomfortable feeling that he was eavesdropping on something furtive, shameful.

For the first time, he wished he were clothed.

Barely had the wish formed in his head than robes appeared a short distance away. He took them and pulled them on: They were soft, clean, and warm. It was extraordinary how they had appeared, just like that, the moment he wanted them….

He stood up, looking around. Was he somehow in some great Room of Requirement? The longer he looked, the more there was to see. A great doomed glass roof glittered high above him in the sunlight. Perhaps it was a palace. All was hushed and still, except for those odd thumping and whimpering noises coming from somewhere close by in the mist…

Harry slowly turned on the spot, and his surroundings seemed to invent themselves before his eyes. A wide-open space, bright and clean, a hall larger by far than the Great Hall, with that clear, domed glass ceiling. It was quite empty. He was the only person there, except for -

He recoiled. He had spotted the thing that was making the noises. It had the form of a small, naked child, curled on the ground, its skin raw and rough, flayed-looking, and it lay shuddering under a seat where it had been left, unwanted, stuffed out of sight, struggling for breath.

He was afraid of it. Small and fragile and wounded though it was, he did not want to approach it. Nevertheless he drew slowly nearer, ready to jump back at any moment. Soon he stood near enough to touch it, yet he could not bring himself to do it. He felt like a coward. He ought to comfort it, but it repulsed him.

“You cannot help.”

He spun to around. Albus Dumbledore was walking towards him, sprightly and upright, wearing sweeping robes of midnight blue.

“Harry.” He spread his arms wide, and his hands were both whole, white, and undamaged. “You wonderful boy. You brave, brave man. Let us walk.”

Stunned, Harry followed as Dumbledore strode away, leading him to two seats that Harry had not previously noticed, set some distance away under that high, sparkling ceiling. Dumbledore sat down in one of them, and Harry quickly took the other, staring at his old headmaster’s face. Dumbledore’s long silver hair and beard, the piercingly blue eyes behind half-moon spectacles, the crooked nose: Everything was as he had remembered, and yet…..

“But you’re dead,” said Harry.

“Oh yes,” he replied matter-of-factly. “So are you, in a sense.”

“I don’t understand.” Harry rubbed at his scar. “But I should have died - I was hit by the Killing Curse. I let him kill me!”

“And that,” said Dumbledore, “will, I think, have made all the difference.”

Happiness seemed to radiate from Dumbledore like light, like fire: Harry had never seen the man so utterly, so palpably content.

“Explain.”

“But you already know,” said Dumbledore.

“I let him kill me,” said Harry. “I purposely let him cast the spell first so that I would die before he did. Didn’t I?”

“You did,” said Dumbledore, nodding. “Go on!”

“So the part of his soul that was in me…”

Dumbledore nodded still more enthusiastically, urging Harry onward, a brad smile of encouragement on his face.

“…has it gone, then?”

“Oh yes! Yes, he destroyed it. Your soul is whole, and completely your own, Harry.”

Harry glanced over his shoulder to where the small, maimed creature trembled under the chair. “What is that, Professor?”

“Something that is beyond either of our help,” said Dumbledore in a small sad voice.

“But if Voldemort used the Killing Curse,” Harry started again, “and nobody died for me this time - how can I be alive?”

“I think you know. Think back. Remember what he did, in his ignorance, in his greed , and his cruelty.”

Harry thought. He let his gaze drift over his surroundings. If it was indeed a palace in which they sat, it was an odd one, with chairs set in little rows and bits of railing here and there, and still, he and Dumbledore, and the sad creature under the chair, were the only beings there. Then the answer rose to his lips easily, without effort.

“He took my blood.”

“Precisely,” exclaimed Dumbledore. “He took your blood and rebuilt his living body with it! Your blood in his veins. Harry, Lily’s protection inside both of you! He tethered you to life while he lives!”

“But he’s dead. I killed him.”

“You were the seventh Horcrux, Harry, the Horcrux he never meant to make.”

“So when he used the Killing Curse on me, it killed the Horcrux but not me?”

“Yes and no, I am afraid. The Horcrux isn’t a full soul, the spell killed it but it hit you as well.” Dumbledore smiled at him sadly. “You are dead, but not. You bore all three Hallows at the time of your death, and the Horcrux absorbed most of the spell, and Severus’ sacrifice in that sacred space activated some very old, very powerful magic as well.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The Hallows couldn’t let their master, the Master of Death, die so easily, and with that combined with the power of the stones, and the fact that Voldemort’s soul absorbed the Curse, you have been brought here,” said Dumbledore, waving his hand about in a gesture meant to encompass the whole of the strange mist palace.

“Where is here?”

“Well, there are many names for this place, my boy. Where do you think we are?”

Until Dumbledore had asked, Harry had not known. Now, however, he found that he had an answer to give. “King’s Cross station! Except a lot cleaner and empty, and there are no trains as far as I can see.”

“King’s Cross station!” Dumbledore was chuckling immoderately. “Good gracious, really?”

“Well, where do you think we are,” asked Harry, a little defensively.

“My dear boy, I have no idea. This is, as they say, your party.”

Harry had no idea what this meant; Dumbledore was being infuriating. He glared at him, then remembered a much more pressing concern.

“Professor Snape,” he said, glad to see that the words brought a look of seriousness to Dumbledore’s expression.

“Professor Snape gave his life to protect you. He gave it willingly in love in a sacred place. He has been offered a chance, like you yourself are being offered, a choice.”

“A choice?”

“Oh yes.” Dumbledore smiled at him. “We’re at King’s Cross, you say? I think that if you decided to, you would be able to…let’s say…board a train.”

“And where would it take me?”

“Who can rightly say.” Dumbledore smiled a little wistfully as they watched a train appear from the mist as if it had always been there. “Onward, I expect, to another adventure.”


	2. Chapter 1: Creation and Awakenings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** This is a pretty short chapter by my standards. Only about 6 1/2 pages long. But the ending felt right. So I stopped it here. 
> 
> ________________________________________________________________________________________________

**February 1808, Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean**

 

The ocean trembled, waves rising up and crashing against each other as, from the depths, peaks of earth began to rise. Massive slabs of white stone, and molten lava began to form, taking on shape, forming peaks and valleys. What should have taken millions of years, passed in the blink of an eye. A massive island of nearly 540,000 square miles of volcanic rock, took shape. Around it tall spires of white stone rose up like silent sentinels, standing guard over the one large lagoon on the islands northwest side. The barren land soon became covered in white sand beaches around the lagoon, which trailed into rich dark volcanic soil. Almost as soon as that rolled over the land, trees, rives, lakes, and waterfalls began to form, blanketing the island in green and blue. The birds that flew over paused in their flights, watching the trees sweeping up the mountainous cliffs that formed the outer walls of the island, a dramatic white guard wall that encircled the island, became tipped in lush green, hinting at the paradise behind the walls. The birds circled closer, watching the trees go into bloom, the green almost hidden under a riot of blue, purple, red, and gold flowers. The air became fragrant with the rich scent of flowers and fruit, ripe and ready to be eaten. As the birds flew closer they saw the jewel-like waters of the lagoon fill with fish, sharks, seals, and dolphins. Animal calls started to fill the air from the islands interior as the birds flew ever closer. As they circled in towards the bay, the white cliffs that bordered the lagoon shuddered, blocks falling off, and other portions of stone flowed like water as they took on the form of two male humanoids. One figure was of an athletically built man with the long, horned head of a dragon, garbed in armor from head to toe, draped with battle robes over the armor, a rampant lion on his breast. His right arm was raised high with a longsword in hand, arching over the entrance to the lagoon where it crossed the long serpentine staff held aloft by the second figure. The second figure was also male, but he was more of a lithely built man with more snake-like dragon head with long protruding canines on his upper and lower jaw. He was dressed not in armor, but in long flowing robes, a snake swallowing it’s tail forming a belt at the figures waist. Between them the water shuddered again as massive ironwood and steal gates formed, blocking any ships from entering the lagoon. On the door closest to the lion man the figure of a golden sun formed, interlocking with the figure of a large silver moon on the door next to the snake man. The birds flew over the gates, some landing briefly on the shoulders of the massive figures before moving onwards, scouting out the new land.

The lush vegetation made way in spots for massive lakes that edged up to cliff faces, the turquoise waters pouring off the cliffs in massive waterfalls that met the ground with a thunderous wave of noise, forming smaller pools and drifting through the valleys in gently winding rivers. Fields of lush green grass and windflowers sprung up alongside the rivers and streams. Animals began to make their way out of the trees, some even seeming to tumble from fruits hanging off of two strange white trees with bright teal colored leaves, one tree on either side of the island. The birds did not care, though. They continued to fly, circling the island interior. Some few even venturing back to the outer ring where large pillars of stone still rose slowly from the water, trees covered so heavily in purple flowers that the leaves could not be seen, growing up and over the tips of the pillars. Some few birds circled the pillars before landing in the tree, locating perfect spots to roost and nest, while others turned back towards the island.

Two more days passed as the birds watched, waiting for they knew not what. Something was coming. They knew it. The island itself was preparing for it. In the bay the waters trembled and rippled as trees rose from the sandy bottom, twisting into beautiful wooden homes hovering above the water on stilts. More trees grew and twisted, forming interconnecting walkways between the homes, complete with intricate railings and trellises. Flowering vines coiled themselves over the trellises as more vines and trees wove together forming hanging benches. The smaller birds watched as larger birds swooped down from inland, dropping palm fronds onto the tops of the homes, where the smaller birds could weave them together into roofs. More clusters of buildings began to appear in the canopy of the rainforest, some formed from stone the trees growing right over the top, others formed from bamboo at the forests edges near the fields, and few massive building began to form in the mountainous cliffs that encircled the island. Intricate "carvings" and "frescos" began to appear as the buildings slowly finished forming.

Still the birds waited. They could tell it was almost time. There was a still tension hovering above the island as the center of the island came to life.

A circle of standing stones was forming at the heart of the island, a massive tree with white bark and teal colored leaves growing at the heart of the circle. Curious the bird landed on the stones, watching as two golden fruits began to grow on the heavy white branches. Other fruits began to grown more slowly. These fruits weren't the same golden color, but appeared to be silver in color. Days, then weeks, passed and the fruits grew ever larger until the branches drooped towards the earth under their weight. When the sun shined down just right, the birds could see the shadows of a body curled in on itself with knees pulled up to the chest. The golden fruits by this time had grown quite large, so large that the fruit hung mere inches from the ground. Finally the limbs shuddered and the fruits split open in a gush of sticky juice. From the fruits fell two pale bodies, covered in the tacky substance dripping out. The branches snapped upwards again, no longer held low by the weight of the golden fruits they had born, which withered and fell off the branches.

Below the tree, sprawled in the soft grass that cushioned the ground below it, the two pale, dark haired bodies stirred.

 

*~*~*~*HP/Temeraire*~*~*~*

 

When Harry opened his eyes, he didn’t know what he had expected. But it certainly hadn’t been blue sky filtered through teal colored leaves hanging like delicate lace off of white tree limbs. Blinking slowly he tried to take stock of his body and his surroundings. Wherever he was he was outdoors. He could feel soft grass tickling his back, buttocks, and legs. So he was naked too. He was somewhere warm, because even with the light breeze he could feel, and the fact that he was naked, he wasn't cold. So certainly further south than Scotland. His limbs felt awkward and heavy, and it seemed to take all the energy he had just to roll onto his side.

Breathing deeply, he took in the sweet fragrance of flowers that filled the air alongside something that smelled almost like a peach. Licking his lips he could taste a burst of fruit that, like the smell, was almost peaches. Whatever it was on his lips, it seemed to also cover the rest of his body in a clear, sticky goop. He could feel it drying in the sun, patches of it sealing leaves, grass, and even feathers to his skin and hair. It made his skin itch, and Harry tried to wiggle it away since his arms still felt too weak to move. The wiggling only made it worse though, as clumps of grass started to stick to him as well. Growling in frustration, Harry tried to stop moving and ignore the itching. After several minutes the itching calmed down, though it did not vanish.

With it at a manageable level he was able to again focus on his surroundings. Now that he was on his side he could see the stone monoliths that rose from the ground, stretching about him and the tree in a great circle. It looked so much like the circle in the clearing, even down to the very ruins carved into the stones. Casting his gaze about in a rush, Harry breathed a sigh of relief when he saw none of the Death Eaters nearby. The only thing before him was the standing stones and beyond that a massive stretch of grass, that seemed to reach towards the mountainous horizon. Relaxing, Harry looked back at the stones again, certain that these were the very stones from the clearing. Or at least they were a very good replica.

There were birds of all sizes and colors sitting on the tops of the stone, watching him. Their gaze was expectant and welcoming. Several of them flew down, landing in the grass nearby. He watched them as they waddled closer, cooing at him. Convinced they would stop or fly away as birds usually did from bigger creatures, Harry was surprised when they simply moved right up next to him. They watched him fairly for a moment before one of the smaller birds broke rank and flew up to land on his chest, it’s beak dipping down to pick at the still damp goop. That seemed to trigger the other birds and before Harry could cry out he was covered in small to mid sized birds, all of whom were picking at the goop on his body, eating it and twittering happily. When the first one decided to nip at the goop that was thickly coating his groin, Harry had enough. Drawing up any reserves he might have, he violently tossing about until the birds had flown back to the pillars in a panic.

Sitting up, breathing harshly, Harry crawled further away from the tree and the birds. When he heard another flurry of beating wings he tried to curl up and hide as many sensitive spots as he could.

The flapping wings silenced and Harry relaxed.

When he turned around to face the birds he found them clustered overtop of what could only be another body. Not knowing who or what it was, Harry still pushed himself to his feet and tried to shoo the birds away. They flew up, circling around Harry and the second person. Waiting for him to let his guard down again so they could sneak some more tasty nibbles of the fruity goop.

Harry panted harshly from the expended effort, but stayed sitting on his knees nearby. As the trembling began to fade from his limbs, he found he could relax a little and focus on the person stretched out in the grass beside him. The body was pale, almost too pale, with a slight blue-green tinge. The limbs were long and the body lean with almost no fat. An athletes body for certain. Harry blushed brightly as he caught sight of the other man’s groin, which was as smooth and hairless as the man’s legs and chest. Nestled between the cup of his thighs was a well portioned cock. The sight of which made Harry’s mouth water a bit.

He had never allowed himself to simply look at a naked man before. Always worried that someone would catch him and call him a freak. But there was no one here other than the birds to see, so Harry let himself stare. His legs twitched and shifted nervously as he felt his cock begin to swell. Suddenly embarrassed he looked away, up towards the man’s face only to freeze in place as his eyes met a pair of large amber colored eyes framed by thick black lashes. His face flamed with heat from his embarrassed blush.

“Potter,” came a hoarse, confused whisper.

Harry’s eyes widened and looked back at the man again, taking in the strong jaw, high cheekbones, the large, but long aquiline nose, and the stern looking mouth. There was something familiar about the face but he couldn’t place it.

“Potter,” the man growled. “Were you just ogling my privates?”

Harry’s large green eyes widened. “Snape!” Harry tipped backwards, jerking his legs together in front of him to his the throbbing, drooling column of his erection. “No! I-“

Snape sighed gustily and looked around him much as Harry had upon first awakening. “Do shut up, Potter.”

“Sorry, sir,” stammered Harry.

Snape looked back at Harry again, taking in the young man’s change in appearance. While his build was still pretty much the same, Snape was under the impression that the boy was taller. Not that he could tell for certain, with Harry curled in on himself in an attempt to hide the fact that he had become aroused while checking Snape out. And wasn’t that surprising! He supposed he should have figured the boy was a poffer since he seemed uninterested in girls unless they had drugged him. But it was more than that as well. He wasn’t just taller. His skin tone was different. It wasn’t the normal tan he sported from being outside all the time, the shade was different, more like the natural shade of the Polynesian skin tone, but with swirls of bright green and purple over his shoulders and back. They almost looked like tattoos, but Severus was certain the boy had not had any tattoos before.

Grumbling under his breath, Severus tried to push himself up into a sitting position so that he could look Harry over more throughly. His back ached slightly from how he had been laying in the grass, and his limbs felt weak as a newborn foals, but he realized that in general he felt better than he could ever remember feeling. The weariness that seemed lodged in bones was gone. The constant pain from being trapped under the _Cruciatus Curse_ was gone as well.

Looking down at himself he took in the lack of scars, potion stains on his fingers, and even the Dark Mark. His skin was slightly paler than before, though not as sickly a tone. However, it did seem to have a weird hint of blue-green to it that he didn’t understand.

"What happened," Severus murmured more to himself than to Harry.

Harry look around them again and then back to Severus. "We died. I remember Voldemort casting the killing curse at us both, and then," Harry trailed off.

"Then what, Potter," demanded Severus.

Harry sighed. "It's silly, but I remember being in a strange place that looked a lot like Kings Cross, and talking with Professor Dumbledore. Then, well, I got on a train and woke up here."

Severus watched him silently for a while, his own mind trying to sort through a jumble of panicked memories. One of which was of him attacking the Dark Lord in an effort to save Harry. Suddenly irritated by his bought of Gryffindorish bravery, Severus near jumped to his feet, staggering a bit at the wobbly feeling in his legs. Despite the fact his body wanted to collapse back into the grass, Severus continued to stomp about, pacing in a circle and only occasionally stopping to look at the standing stones, the strange tree, and the remains of two large fruits which were currently covered in feasting birds.

"This is hardly what I expected if the afterlife."

Harry stood up and moved to stand by Severus who was looking out over the field of grass. "I don't think it is the afterlife. It feels to real. I mean, would we feel this weak, or look this different, if we had moved on? When I..." Harry swallowed thickly. "When I used the stone to call my parents, Sirius, and Remus back before facing Voldemort, their ghosts didn't look like different people. They looked just how they were supposed to."

Severus looked over at Harry, his voice raw with emotion. "You saw Lily?"

Harry looked up at him, his eyes feel of the memories Severus had left for him. "I did. She was...she was beautiful. So much more than I remembered. I mean the only memory I have of her is when she died, and that only because of the Dementors. I," Harry chocked back a sob. "Thank you for sharing your memories, sir. No ones ever told me anything about her before. All anyone ever says is that I have her eyes."

"No one...No one told you about her," Severus asked sadly.

“No."

“Well,” Severus looked away quickly. “Perhaps we might rectify that after we determine where we are. Do you recognize anything?”

“No. You, sir?”

“Not in the least,” Severus sighed. His fingers twitched at his side nervously as it sank in that he was stranded in an unknown location with Harry Potter and neither of them appeared to have clothes or wands. “We best think of how to find any nearby villages.”

Harry glanced back at Snape’s nude body, blushing again as he felt his dick twitch between his legs. “How do we do that?” 

Snape seemed to ponder it for a long while before grimacing and glancing at Harry from the corners of his eyes. He knew Harry had seen Death Eaters, even himself, use the flight spell he had created, that made them look like streaming comets of black smoke. He worried that seeing it again after just facing down the Dark Lord might be too much for Harry, but it was the best option. His animagus form wouldn’t be of any help in this situation. A flying form would be best. Perhaps…. “Did you ever become an animagus, Harry?”

Harry turned confused eyes on his former professor for a moment before understanding clicked into place. Harry cursed silently and shook his head. “No. I never had time.”

“Very well,” Snape grimaced and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the feel of his magic. “Follow me.”

With that Severus cast the spell, transforming his body into a think, flowing black smoke. He was aware of Harry jumping a bit as he swirled about him briefly before rising up in the air. He didn’t have eyes, or ears, or a mouth, but his magic was with him. He could ‘see’ still though not in the same manner as he could with his human eyes. That was the one part of the spell that had made it the hardest to master, both for himself and the others.

He rose higher and higher into the air on the currents of warm air. Around him the view shifted and changed. Trees growing smaller as he rose higher up. Even the horizon in the distance change, curving ever so slightly until he came to a stop, spinning about in a circle. In one direction the forest stretched on for countless miles, mountains rose up in another, rivers, lakes, waterfalls, and cenotes covered the land, and there to northwest a massive lagoon. Nearly as large as the Hogwarts grounds. And the whole islands, Severus was stunned to realize, was encircled by high stone cliffs that acted like the fortified walls of a castle. Even at the lagoon, he could see massive gates closing out the outside world.

That wasn’t all though. He could see a massive castle with it’s own city, all carved into the side of one of the mountains to the southeast, strange domed mounds in the grasslands only a few miles from where they were now, elaborate tree house cities dotted the forests, more massive stone building were hidden beneath the forest canopy as well, and there, at the lagoon, bungalows at the waters edge, and more built over the water itself. The strange mounds were closest but there was no way to know if there would be people there. The tree houses were the best best. They were closest and if they wanted to head to the lagoon, they would still have to go through the forests to get there.

Allowing his form to swirl about the sky one last time, Severus slowly shifted back towards the ground, never noticing that the smoke shape had strayed from the long tailed image of a comet to something animal like, something large, something winged.


	3. Chapter 2: A House In The Sky

**February 1808, Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean**

 

“How long have we been walking,” panted Harry.

“An hour longer than the last time you asked,” growled Severus.

Harry sighed and looked up into the leafy canopy above them, ignoring the ache in his feet from half a day walking over grass, dirt, rock, and all manner of other forest elements. He wished desperately that he had his trainers. Or at the least, company that was willing to make sure he knew they were just as miserable as he was. About the only thing Harry was grateful for was that none of the bugs they had come across seemed interested in feasting upon either of them. In fact the bugs seemed to be actively avoiding them, flying or scuttling away at the earliest hint of their approach. Honestly, he didn’t mind though. The last thing he needed beside the embarrassment of walking naked through a jungle with Severus Snape, was to be uncontrollably itchy from countless bug bites. In front of Severus Snape.

Yeah, this whole day so far was one big embarrassment.

About the only good thing so far was how clean the air smelt. He had never experienced anything like it before. He had thought the air around Hogwarts was clean, but this was something altogether more impressive. The air was warm, and felt almost heavy, like it was just waiting to start raining. Even naked he didn't feel cold. Beyond that the place itself was unlike anything he had seen before. Not even the photos in the vacation magazines that his Aunt used to get, looked this lovely. Everything was pristine, like no human had even walked here before. And yet, Professor Snape had seen villages all about when he had gone up in the air, so there had to be someone else here.

Harry let out a sudden yelp as his foot caught itself in the raised root of one of the large trees. He fell forward barely having enough time to stretch his arms out in front of him to break his fall. He hit the ground hard, wincing in pain from where a couple small rocks dug into his ribs and hips. 

"Honestly, Potter," sighed Snape.

Harry groaned and pushed himself up onto his knees. Looking up he blushed bright red as his eyes immediately caught sight of Snape's naked cock dangling practically in his face. "I..."

Snape sighed and grabbed him about the arm, pulling him up to his feet. "Are you bleeding anywhere?"

Harry blinked rapidly and forced himself to look over the strange new body he seemed to inhabit. "No?"

Snape sighed again and pushed on his shoulder, forcing Harry to spin in a slow circle. "You look unhurt. Do try and keep it that way. Merlin only knows what kind of bacteria are out here."

“Alright,” Harry replied in a tone that told Snape his former student wasn’t sure he would keep that promise.

“And Harry,” Snape turned and smirked at him from over his shoulder. “You have flowers in your hair.”

Harry cursed and flailed his hands over his hair, knocking lose a couple of hibiscus-like flowers, along with several leaves. He scowled at his former Professor’s back, but wearily moved to follow as Snape started walking through the trees once more. The birds around them continued to sing and Harry started to realize the forest was alive around them. Between the trees he could see other animals moving. Something large with antlers, a deer of some sort obviously. A couple wild pigs a few miles past that, and even a strange large animal that looked somewhat pig like, but with a short trunk like nose, and colored like a panda. There was a plethora of other animals he was sure he wasn’t seeing, but could hear clearly as they continued to walk hour after hour. He tried to keep an eye out for the animals as a way to ignore his aching feet, and the tempting curve of the pale blue-tinged buttocks in front of him. 

It worked somewhat. Though not as well as he had hoped.

Still, spotting some of the unusual animals was kind of exciting. He had already spotted three species of deer, or perhaps one might have been an antelope of some kind. He had also spotted a monkey species in the trees. Their their faces a striking shade of bright blue with ruby red eyes, and their fur was a silvery-white color, with a long tail tipped in black like they had been dunked in ink. He had spotted foxes, a pack of wild dogs with patchwork fur of black, tan, and white, a leopard, and a tigress with cubs. Even some kind of large deer that was a sold black with eery glowing gold eyes, and pure white, curved horns. Even more exciting than all of that though, was that he had come to realize that some of the birds he had seen were actually just small feathered dragons! There had to be three for four species of them at least based on the ones he saw!

One of the little dragons had taken to gliding between the trees, following behind them as they came to the part of the forest that housed a city of elaborate interconnecting tree houses. Pausing below them they had both looked above them wide-eyed at the sight. It was like the best childhood fantasy one could imagine. The light from the setting sun lit up the massive tree houses, some two and three stories tall, and all of them connected by a delicate lacework of rope bridges. All of the trees seemed to have branches covered in fruits, and vines covered in vegetables, weaving through the city across the rope bridges and up the side of buildings. There were clay troughs lining the roofs, weaving throughout the city as well, leading to a massive water tower at the center of the city. If you were up in the city, Harry realized, it looked as if you didn’t ever have to come down!

“Amazing,” he whispered.

“Indeed.” Snape replied, his own eyes locked on the water tower at the center. “We might as well go up and see if anyone is there. At the very least we can certainly get food, water, and a safe place to sleep tonight.”

“Yeah, I don’t really feel like running away from a tiger in the middle of the night.”

Snape nodded, a grim look on his face. “You saw them too.”

“Yeah. And the leopard and wild dogs as well.”

“We should be fine.” Snape moved towards the closest tree looking for some way up into the canopy. “There is an abundance of prey animals about. I doubt they’d chose to come after us.”

Harry nodded, not sure if he really believed the man. But he certainly wanted too. After all, the predators had spotted them and immediately gone off in the opposite direction as if Snape and he were the threat and not the animals. “How do we get up there?”

Snape ignored him and started circling the massive trunk of the tree. Harry looked up at the sky in exasperation before turning and circling the tree from the opposite direction. He had hardly gotten more than a dozen steps around it when he heard Snape give a cry of triumph. Running the rest of the way around the tree, Harry came to a stumbling stop beside the older wizard gazing up at the intricate stairwell built into the side of the tree, curving up it’s side in a long drawn-out spiral.

“That’s a lot of stairs,” Harry murmured in awe.

Snape glanced at Harry out of the corner of his eyes, and then back at the stairs. “We had best begin climbing then.”

It seemed to take forever to climb the hundreds of steps, but they finally did. The top step brought them out on a platform that gave them a stunning view of the city. The platform was utterly massive, being easily the size of the Gryffindor common room, if not larger. There was a beautifully carved waist-high railing encircling the entire platform, carved wooden birds sitting on the joints. Coiling dragon carvings formed tall pillars at the four corners, connecting the platform to the ceiling above. There were wooden Adirondack chairs, brightly painted hanging swings, and small tables scattered over the platform, set to look out over the railing which was covered in flowering vines. Looking around Harry realized that as lovely as it was, and as high as they already were in the trees, they were still not at the level of the houses. Above them, about two stories up, was the floor of the tree houses. Looking around he could see no stairwell, or even a dangling rope. But he could see that brightly colored glass lanterns designed to look like red and gold Chinese paper lanterns, were hanging from the ceiling. In the dimming light Harry was starting to think lighting them would be a good idea.

"Why do the stairs stop here and not continue up to the houses," he asked.

Snape was looking around as well, hands running over the bark of the tree while his eyes darted about on the underside of the house above them. "A precaution to prevent the local predators from getting into the homes is my guess. You can see that any branches that might allow one to climb up the trunk of the tree to get to them, have already been removed."

"Oh," said Harry. "Then how do we get up there?"

"As I see no rope ladders or open stairwells, it is likely the builders are crafty enough to have created a hidden entrance." Snape looked back at the tree trunk, brow furrowed. "Help me check the trunk for a hidden door."

Harry's eye lit up in delight. "A secret passage!"

"Yes, Potter," Snape said with a weary breath. "A secret passage. Check for any wood that looks or feels different. Any cracks in the bark, or hollow sounding noise."

Harry nodded and started to mimic Snape going in the opposite direction, tapping on the wood with one hand, while running his other hand the bark feeling for differences in texture. "I haven't found anything yet," he replied a couple minutes later. "Should we light the lanterns? It's getting dark."

Though Snape didn't answer him verbally, Harry assumed he had heard and agreed as all the lanterns flickered to life. The warm glow of the flames inside them lighting up the platform in a pleasant reddish glow. Smiling to himself, Harry went back to looking about for the secret door. Snape was good enough with windless magic that Harry was certain that if they found the door, he would be able to snuff the flames, so they didn't have to worry about burning down the buildings. Though Harry wasn't sure they'd need to worry about that anyway. The lanterns were hanging low enough form the ceiling that they couldn't catch the buildings above on fire, and none of them were so close to the trunk, or any branches, that they could set those aflame either. Obviously they had been designed much like the old oil street lanterns from the Victorian age, allowing them to burn all night without issue. And though he would never admit it aloud, that gave him some comfort.

He was still musing on the way light could banish away his fears of what might lurk in the forest around them when his hands felt something strange. Blinking slowly so that his eyes might focus better on the bark in front of him in the ever dimming light, Harry traced his fingers over the spot again. Slowly a wide smiled stretched across his face as he realized that what he was feeling beneath the tips of his fingers was a seam. A carefully hidden seam in the bark of the tree.

"Professor," he cried out. "I've found it!"

The heavy slap-slap of Snape's feet against the wooden floor got louder as the other wizard came around the trunk to where Harry was standing. It didn't take long to reach Harry, even walking at a normal pace. Harry turned to look at him, his hand still resting against the seam he had found so that he didn't lose it. 

"It's right here," Harry said, nodding at his hand still on the tree. "It feels like a seam in the wood. I can barely see it."

"Let me look," Snape said as he stepped up beside Harry, carefully placing his hand right next to where Harry's was pressed against the bark.

Harry slowly moved his hand away, giving Snape enough time to move his hand in sync with Harry's, over to the seam. He was quite as he began tracing a single fingertip over the seam, his eyes focused on that single spot. Whispering so softly that Harry couldn't make out the words, Severus' fingertip began to glow a pale purple. He carefully went about tracing his finger further and further over the bark, following the seam. Where his finger traced the wood glowed purple. Slowly the shape of a large, arched doorway began to appear.

Finally they both stepped back, standing shoulder-to-shoulder, and looked at the hidden entrance they had found. There was still no visible doorknob, but Harry was certain they would get in. And sure enough, after only a moment of observation, Severus moved forward and simply placed his hand in the center of the outlined door, and pushed against the wood. With hardly a sound it moved back into the tree before stopping, hardly even hesitating, Severus moved his hand and pushed again. This time the door slid to the left, revealing the opening inside the trunk of the massive tree. Stepping inside the two of them took in the sight of the spiraling staircase that seemed to be carved out of the tree itself rather than installed into it. Smaller iron and glass lanterns hung out from the smooth, polished walls, upon which Severus cast his windless spell again, lighting up the tall column of a room. 

The flickering flames trapped in the glass filled the room with a warm light that reflected off the carefully smoothed, living core of the tree. Harry gasped in amazement. For a moment he could hardly believe it was real. He was standing inside a tree. A living tree. A tree that was still growing. And yet, here a small, but tall, corridor had been carved into the tree going up two stories. He had no idea how this could have been accomplished outside of magic. Surely magic was the only way this could have been created. 

“This is amazing. The craftsmanship needed to create this alone,” Severus said to himself.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, raising one hand to caress the curved, polished banister rail. 

Before Severus could stop him, Harry was climbing the stairs. He let his gaze raise up the stairs to where he could see the end of the stairs spiraling away above. He barely got a dozen stairs up before Severus was following him. They climbed the stairs in silence, both of them wondering what might be one the other side of the door at the end of the stairs.

When Harry reached the top and pulled open the door, what he found was beyond what he imagined. The door opened onto another platform, cool air brushing his face as he stepped out of the doorway. The part of the platform open to the elements was smaller than the one below due to the large house that took up the majority of the platform. He felt like he was in the midst of a movie set. The house felt like it belonged in a jungle setting, but it also felt like it belonged in a fantasy movie. The wooden walls had intricately carved designs around the doors, windows, and the entrances! Oh, but those were amazing! The doors were wide, double doors of smooth, polished wood with inlaid stained glass in the door, in the tall, thin windows on either side, and the half-sun window on top. The stained glass was vibrant and stunning. Looking at it he feared that he might break it if he so much as laid a finger on it.

Glancing nervously at Snape, Harry waited to see what the other man would do.

Snape was taking it all in as well. The expert craftsmanship that formed almost everything they could see in front of them, to the almost asian style of the curving rooftop. Though even that wasn’t exact. More carvings were decorating the roof line under the gutters that led to the water tower. Looking closer Harry thought the carving looked similar to the styles he had seen in history books of ancient celtic and viking designs. They were just carved in though. They were painted too, a bright rainbow of colors that seemed cheerful as well as purposeful. Like he should know why each piece was the color it was.

He was too tired, to explore it further though. His feet ached, he had scrapes and bruises all over from pushing through the forest plants, and he was hungry. So very hungry. But most of all he was tired.

“Can we go inside?” Harry looked over at Snape, who was eyeing the door. “I’m going to fall asleep standing up.”

“We might as well,” Snape said still sounding distracted. 

Harry looked around, taking in the darkened windows of the homes around them before looking back at the home they stood infant of. It was a little creepy to be in a strange city that for all appearances, seemed to have been recently abandoned. Had the natives spotted them and run off rather than greet them? Harry look at his shoulders taking in the strange sight of his new skin tone and the colorful swirls marking it, then looked over at Snape. Had the strangeness of their appearance been enough to scare people off? Or had the people left well before ever spotting the two of them? He wasn’t sure why, but the longer they were in this strange country, the more he began to feel like they were the only people here, despite the buildings that would suggest otherwise.

Nervously, he looked around once more before chasing after Snape. If they were the only people here, he certainly didn’t want to lose Snape.

Fortunately, Snape hadn’t gotten far. Harry didn’t have to go all that far from the entrance to find him. Snape had apparently stopped at the edge of the entryway, to take in the sight of the room. Like everything else about the treehouse so far, it was spacious, intricately carved, and pieced together like a dream. If Harry had to guess, he would say a place built like this back home would have cost a small fortune. Everything looked handmade by master craftsmen. 

“Wow,” he whispered. 

Snape trailed the tips of his fingers gently over the surface of an ornately carved side table, leaning down to sniff at the tropical flowers that were in the crystal vase atop it. His eyes closed in pleasure at the smell.

Harry watched him enjoy the simple smell of the flowers for a moment, not sure what to make of the sight. He never really pictured Severus Snape as the kind of man who enjoyed flowers. But, there was something pleasing about the sight. He wasn't sure what it was exactly. Perhaps it was the sight of the Snape bending over in the nude? Perhaps it was how the man trusted Harry enough to turn his back on him? Maybe it was how lose and relaxed his shoulders looked? Harry didn't really care. Honestly, he was just happy to see the man look anything other than sickly and angry. 

With a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, Harry quickly looked away. Snape wouldn't appreciate Harry's amusement of him. So he turned his attention to the room, and the strange building, they found themselves in. 

Despite the hints here and there, that suggested inspiration from Victorian and craftsman architecture, the home felt as if it belonged in a lush tropical setting. Someplace like Hawaii, Bora Bora, or Guam. A place that felt like you had stepped into the garden of Eden. Some of the walls were nothing but the exposed wood, golden in color in some rooms, silvery white in others, and rich red in yet another he walked through. What appeared to be a sitting room and the dining room both had a layer of painted plaster over top. The dinning room, Harry thought, was very lovely. The bottom half of the wall was still the beautiful woodwork and the top was plaster painted to look like the views out the windows, all lush tropical forest, colorful birds and feathered dragons. The border rail between the two sections was a piece of artfully carved wood similar to the designs from outside, but left uncolored. It was a magnificent room, something he'd only seen the like of in one of those period dramas his aunt loved so much. And even that wasn't quite the same. He wanted to trace his fingers over all of it to make sure it was real, but he was silently terrified that if he touched it, all of it would crumble away.

“I thought you were tired,” came the deep baritone of Snape’s voice from behind his right shoulder.

“I am.” Harry turned slightly, looking over his shoulder at Severus. “But you have to admit this is pretty wicked.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of Snape’s mouth. “It is an impressive place. Come,” Snape placed a hand gently on Harry’s shoulder and guided him towards the staircase leading upwards. “There are bedrooms on the floor above.”

“Thank Merlin.”

The floor above was just as beautiful as the first. Though the walls were mostly the soft golden wood, rather than the painted plaster of many of the rooms below. There were four bedrooms on the top floor. Harry and Snape looked at each before deciding to take the two rooms at the back, one of which was the master. So of course Snape took that one.

Harry rolled his eyes as Snape closed the door to the room in Harry’s face. The master bedroom had been very beautiful, with large windows looking out over the forest and the river that neither of them had spotted until now. It had a large balcony attached and it’s own bathroom, complete with a cedar tub made out of the root portion of the trunk. Just one massive piece of wood that had been carved into the right shape, and smoothed until it shown like it was made of porcelain. Harry wasn’t sure how the plumbing system worked but the bathroom that seemed to be for the other three rooms had working water coming out the pipes. Though it was cold rather than hot water. But he really didn’t care as long as he wouldn’t have to carry buckets of water up into the trees by hand.

Walking a little ways down the hall, Harry opened the door to the second biggest bedroom. It’s view was almost as nice as the master, but the room was smaller. Still it had a whole bay of windows, all covered in netting to keep out bugs, and it had a full sized bed, complete with plush mattress, quilted blankets, and down pillows. Harry gave it a longing gaze before stepping out of the room and walking back to the bathroom so that he could take a quick, cold water bath before crawling into the bed. He didn’t know who the house belonged to but he knew if Mrs. Weasley was here she would have cursed him for crawling into that bed covered in the dirt and plant life that had gotten stuck to his new body over the day. And that didn’t even take into consideration the dry, but still tacky, goop that was covering him from head to toe. So he cleaned himself up, watched the water drain away through the bottom of the tub, and then padded silently back down the hall to the room he had decided to claim as his own for the night.

Outside the windows the sun was setting. What little of the sky he could see past the trees was painted red and purple. He closed the door softly, the latch making barely a sound. Sliding a finger along the bridge of his nose, as if he still had, or needed, his glasses, Harry walked over to the bed. For a moment he simply stood there, one hand resting against the wood of the four-poster as he watched the sun set. Slowly the sky darkened until it was a rich dark blue, dotted with pinpoints of light made up of thousands upon thousands of stars. He had never seen a sky so lit up with stars. Not even when he was at Hogwarts. 

It was breathtaking.

It took him a moment to realize that as he watched the sun set, he had sat down on the bed. His silent amazement seemed to have stolen his conscious thoughts for a brief span. Shaking his head he crawled further onto the bed, tugging the bug netting that was hooked at the four corner posts of the frame, until they came lose and closed around the bed, protecting him for any bugs that could have gotten in. Weariness was settling into his muscles as he sat there, making his limbs feel like lead weights.

Finally he gave up watching the sky and tugged the blankets down, crawling into the bed and settling himself as best he could. It was only a heartbeat before his eyes drifted closed and darkness overtook him.

 

*~*~*~*HP/Temeraire*~*~*~*

 

**The Next Day**

Rarely had Harry ever woken up so peacefully before. There was no pounding footsteps on the stairs, no yelling voices, no loud snoring from Ron. Instead he was woken by the dim light of the sun coming through the trees and the sounds of birds signing to each other outside his window. He rolled off his side, onto his back, and remained there for several minutes just enjoying the peacefulness around him. Sure he was in a strange place, that seemed as if there should be people, but appeared to be populated by Snape and himself alone. Sure he didn’t look like himself anymore. His skin was a warm bronze and covered in markings that one could be mistaken for tattoos. But none of that was really all that bad. He could be dead as he had thought he would be when Voldemort cast the final spell at him. 

He had been prepared to die.

But he wasn’t dead. He was alive. He was healthy. He felt stronger than ever before. And he was in this beautiful place that looked as if it came right out of a fantasy novel. It was amazing and thrilling. He was sure that if Hermione was here, she would have been cautioning him on all that could go wrong, sucking the fun out of exploring a whole new world. But she wasn’t. He had Snape here and that made him feel surprisingly safe considering he had thought Snape a death Eater bent on killing him for nearly six years. Now he wouldn’t have felt safer if Dumbledore himself had been here with him instead.

Climbing out of the bed Harry looked around the room again, taking it in now that the room was flooded in warm sunlight. It really was a lovely room, even if most of the walls were bare. The moulding along the ceiling was carved with images of birds and climbing flowers. All of them stylized like the other carving so that they looked vaguely Celtic or Norse. There was a set of doors on the side of the room that he hadn’t noticed before and Harry wondered if perhaps the room did have it’s own bathroom after all.

It was only a few steps away from where he was, so he took them, walking over to the doors and pulling them open. The doors folded outwards and as Harry looked inside he was only slightly disappointed to find it was a walk-in closet and not a bathroom. Still a closet wasn’t bad. A closet meant clothes. Which meant he wouldn’t have to walk around naked all day again if he was lucky.

Grinning madly, he stepped into the closet, rifling through the clothes. There had to be nearly thirty different outfits carefully arranged in the closet, none of which looked anything like what Harry was used to. In fact most of the clothes appeared to be large swatches of colorful fabric, or linen skirt like-things. There were no tops at all, and the only shoes he found appeared to be flip-flops. He grimaced but decided a dress, skirt, or toga was still better than being naked. At least the fabric would hide any unplanned for reactions. 

It took him easily twenty minutes to pick out which swatch of fabric to wear, and how to put it on. He’d never had clothes that one had to tie on before, though he supposed in a tropical climate such as this, the full length, heavy clothes he was used to wear would be out of place. In the end he chose a gray fabric that had a slightly darker gray pattern of leopard spots with some blue flowers scatter over top. There was probably a more masculine one in the closet but he was tired of looking through them, and this one was good enough. After all, it wasn’t like there was anyone else to see him in it. Well, anyone besides Snape, and Snape had seen him naked which was far more embarrassing.

He opened the fabric, sitting the middle of it under his right armpit, pulling it around his body, and tying the top into a knot over his left shoulder, then tying a second knot just above his hip. It still left parts of his ribs and thigh exposed on the left, but it was good enough. He could figure out something better later.

Walking out of the room, he made his way back down the stairs towards the kitchen they had found the night before. The house was quiet as he made his way, the only sounds being the singing of birds, and possibly those small dragons. He enjoyed the sound of their morning song as he scoured the kitchen for anything edible. There wasn’t much, at least in the way of fresh food. Mostly in found tightly sealed glass jars filled with jam, preserved fruit slices and vegetables. There were a few ceramic containers as well which he found contained either, tea leaves, coffee beans, or some kind of nut that smelled very much like chocolate. There were also a few containers of jerky of some kind. Maybe from one of those deer things they had seen? He pulled some out, along with one of the jars of fruit, setting them aside on the wooden counter. He found a beautiful steal teapot that was covered in ornamental carvings of dragons and flowering trees. Filling it with water form the sink (and wasn’t that a marvel in a tree house), he set it on the stove. It took only a moment to realize it was a wood stove and Harry spent the next several minutes trying to locate some wood for it, only to realize there was a box full of small wood logs stored on the small balcony adjacent to the kitchen. 

By the time he had boiled the water and mixed in the tea leaves to steal, he could hear the soft footfalls that signaled Snape was up. He dished up some of the dried meat, and set a small bowl of fruit next to it on the extended counter. There were a few stools on the other side of it, so he was assuming this was the less formal eating space, which was perfectly fine as far as Harry was concerned. 

He quickly dished up a second serving and was just setting down two of the ceramic teacups he had found, when Snape walked in. 

Harry blinked, his jar dropping slightly at the sight of his former potions and defense professor. Snape’s long black hair was tied back from his face with a green ribbon, highlighting the sharpe angular cheekbones, strong jawline, and the normally fierce eyes. Eyes which seemed to still be cloudy with sleep. His pale skin still had the slightest of blue-green tinge to it, which seemed all the stronger for the green and gold colored fabric tied tightly around Snape’s waist. 

Harry looked away, pushing a lock of his own black hair out of his face with one bronzed hand. “So,” he started, hesitating for a moment. “What do we do now?”

“We should split up and check the other buildings. If we don’t find anyone else here, then we should think about packing up some essentials and traveling to one of the other cities. This could be a seasonal city.”

“I guess. But all this food…”

“Is properly stored and preserved so that it can last for a while.”

Harry sighed, snagging a piece of the jerky and tearing into it. It was sweet, and slightly spicy. He was a little surprised how easily he was able to tear into it. The beef jerky his aunt used to give him with his slice of bread, was always much harder to eat. Often he had to suck on it for a few minutes to soften it up enough to chew. But this tore apart easily between his new teeth. He continued to nibble on it while he watched Snape inspect the offered food. With an arched brow, the older wizard joined Harry in eating the meager fare. 

“I’ll check the rest of the stores here before I start looking at the other buildings. If you want start to look at all the buildings off to the left path.”

Harry nodded, not really in the mood to argue. He carefully washed the dish he had used before drying it and putting it away. Snape watched the whole time, carefully noting where Harry had found the dish. After dithering about for a bit longer, Harry finally walked out of the kitchen. He didn’t really want to explore the place on his own. After all he didn’t know what kinds of creatures might be lingering in the trees, or the forest below. At least when Snape was there with him there was a second set of eyes keeping a look out for predators and poisonous animals. But he wasn’t going to hide away inside, where Snape could tease him about his lack of Gryffindor bravery. Not when the man had berated him for an over abundance of it multiple times over the last seven years. 

The front door clicked softly as he closed it behind him. The weather outside was just as nice as it had been yesterday. The sun was shinning down through the leaves above him, weaving a lace-like pattern of light over the bridges connecting the treehouse together. There was a light breeze stirring the air as well, and Harry sighed at the scent of flowers and eucalyptus that was on the breeze. He couldn’t see the eucalyptus trees, but there had to be some somewhere nearby for the scent to be so strong on the air. 

Allowing himself a moment, he turned his face up to the sky and closed his eyes. For a long moment he basked in the warmth of the sun and the soft caress of the breeze.

Opening his eyes, Harry let out a soft sigh and walked away from the tree house where Snape was still foraging through the supplies inside.


End file.
